"Ha! dame," said the new-comer, who was a stout respectably attired man of middle age, "how sells the good ale? Scarcely a drop left in thy cellars, I hope?"
"Enough left to give your worship a draught after your long walk," said the landlady, as she rose to fulfil the promise implied in her words. "I did not walk," was the gentleman's reply, "but took a pair of oars down the river. Thou know'st, dame, I always come to Chelsea myself to see if thou lackest anything."
"Ay, sir," replied the landlady, "and it is by that way of doing business that you have made yourself, as all the city says, the richest man in the Brewers' Corporation, if not in all London itself."
"Well, dame, the better for me if it is so," said the brewer, with a smile; "but let us have thy mug, and this pretty friend of thine shall pleasure us, mayhap, by tasting with us."
The landlady was not long in producing a stoup of ale, knowing that her visitor never set an example hurtful to his own interests by countenancing the consumption of foreign spirits.
"Right, hostess," said the brewer, when he had tasted it, "well made and well kept, and that is giving both thee and me our dues. Now, pretty one," said he, filling one of the measures or glasses which had been placed beside the stoup, "wilt thou drink this to thy sweetheart's health?"
The poor country girl to whom this was addressed declined the proffer civilly, and with a blush; but the landlady exclaimed:
"Come, silly wench, drink his worship's health; he is more likely to do thee a service, if it so please him, than John the waggoner. The girl has come many a mile," continued the hostess, "to seek a place in town, that she may burden her family no more at home."
"To seek service!" exclaimed the brewer; "why, then, it is perhaps well met with us. Has she brought a character with her, or can you speak for her, dame?"
"She has never yet been from home, sir, but her face is her character," said the kind-hearted landlady; "I warrant me she will be a diligent and trusty one."